Secrets and Spies: Kabul
by NothingImpossible
Summary: Flashback from "Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies": What really happened to Killian and Liam five years earlier in Kabul. CAUTION: Contains graphic violence, pain, torture, whump, blood, and gore. Read at your own risk.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I am entirely overwhelmed by the amazing reponse I had to Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies, you guys are all phenomenal and I want to hug every one of you! It was requested that I write more in this universe and, while I fully intend on adding a sequel at some point, I thought this flashback series would be perfect to celebrate the wonderful killian-whump's birthday (really late, I"M SORRY!). A tremendous thank you to the fantastically patient icecubelotr44 for helping, pushing, comforting, betaing, and otherwise friending this little story along.

 **WARNING:** There will be extreme violence, torture, blood, and gore, so please do not read if that bothers you. A brief summary of what will happen here is outlined in Chapter 6 of Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies, so check there first if you aren't sure.

* * *

 ** _Chapter One_**

Killian woke in darkness to the feeling of movement beneath him, vibrations of an engine and tires bumping across a dirt road rumbling through his exhausted body. He was tired, groggy, hadn't slept nearly enough, and he had no idea where the hell he was. He could still feel the bruises on his back and legs, where the local police force had been a little too overzealous with their batons earlier, along with the cold metal of handcuffs tightly pulling his wrists behind his back.

"He- hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse.

"Finally, you're up," he heard his brother's voice in the dark. "You all right, Killian?"

He took quick stock of his injuries, nothing new that he could feel, everything else minor enough. "Aye, you?"

"I'll be fine," Liam replied quietly.

He almost didn't want to ask the next question, but he had no choice. "Milah?"

A pause from his brother. "Not here," Liam said. "I haven't seen her since the flat."

 _No..._

Killian sagged back against the wall of the vehicle, his arms pulling at his shoulders as he sat but he almost didn't feel it, a combination of worry and the leftover codeine still in his system. He had no idea who had them, who had grabbed them from their rented apartment in Kabul, and no clue what they wanted.

It was definitely not a good situation, especially with Milah gone.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, his memories of the last few hours hazy with the powerful drugs still in his system.

"They came into the flat, grabbed us, brought us to the van. I don't know where they took Milah, I couldn't see much." He could almost hear Liam's shrug in the dark. "Seems like the terrorist cell we were tracking, but I can't be certain."

Killian ran over the details of the case in his head, as much as he could remember without the file in front of him, a low-grade headache pounding steadily behind his eyes. MI6 hadn't been able to dig up very much on the group they'd been trying to find, and Killian's earlier attempts to get more information nearly landed him in the local prison with a mild concussion. Whoever they were, they were good at staying quiet, under the radar.

But now, to come out during the daylight hours and just grab them like that? It didn't make sense. Why now? Had they accidentally found more info than they realised? Maybe the cell panicked, grabbed them out of desperation, take Killian and company before MI6 could act first. But what would they be so worried about? To Killian's knowledge, they'd found next to nothing on either the members or the leaders, just the rough location in Afghanistan, and even that was still the subject of debate between him and his partner.

 _Milah._

His chest hurt with a sudden ache that had nothing to do with the bruises on his ribs. He needed to get to her, find her, before the terrorists got to her first.

He twisted his fingers until he could grasp the cold metal of the handcuffs, tried to feel for the keyholes, to think of something, anything, he could use to pick the locks. His belt was gone, must have been taken when they grabbed him while he was only semi-conscious, and he couldn't reach his shoes to tell if the laces were still intact. He'd used the hardened tips of the to pick locks before, it wasn't ideal and took far too much time, but maybe….

His fingers scraped his boot, his leg bent half-backward to reach. Killian felt the front of his shoe. No laces.

Great.

"I tried already," he heard his brother's voice across the darkened van. "Can't pick them."

 _Of course he had,_ Killian thought almost angrily. Of course his brother, practical and perfect, had thought of every possible escape route.

He sighed loudly, his head thumping against the wall of the van as he lay back. He closed his eyes. Didn't matter anyway, it was too dark to see anything. He stretched out his legs, his foot bumping into his brother's. It took conscious effort not to jerk his foot away.

"I'm sorry," Liam whispered, almost inaudible over the roar of the engine, the vibration of the cab. "I couldn't stop them, I'm so sorry."

Killian let out another breath, slowly, deliberately.

"I know," he said, hiding any sign of anger from his voice. "Not your fault." It _wasn't_ Liam's fault they were in this mess, he knew that perfectly well. So why the hell was he so mad at his brother?

Frustration clawed through him, the lack of movement, the confined space closing in on him. He'd never been claustrophobic before, but he couldn't shake the need to _get out_ , get free, to _do_ something. Milah was out there, somewhere, alone without them, without _him_ , and he needed to get to her, make sure she was okay.

"We'll find her," Liam said softly. "No matter what happens, I'll make sure of it somehow. We'll find her, Killian."

"I hope you're right," he answered groggily, the effects of the drugs still tugging at his eyelids. He shook his head. Couldn't let himself fall asleep, not now, not with everything at stake, some unknown threat. He'd heard that adrenaline in response to fear could push the medicine through a body faster, help get it out quicker, but it seemed to be doing no such thing for him. He yawned as silently as he could, trying to hold his mouth closed tightly.

Liam knew, he always knew.

"Rest, brother. I'll wake you if anything happens."

Killian nodded, knowing Liam couldn't see, but it was more for himself anyway. They had been captured, taken, and there was nothing he could do but try to catch up on the sleep his body seemed to need.

He dropped his head against the wall of the van and was asleep before he knew it.

* * *

He woke later to Liam kicking him in the leg, hard.

"Wake up!" his brother hissed in the dark.

Killian stretched out as much as he could, tried to work out the kinks that had developed in his neck and shoulders from having his arms twisted behind him. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but it definitely wasn't enough. He could feel the van slowing, the ground rougher than it had been the last time he was awake, and he only hoped he had enough energy for whatever unknown enemy they'd have to face.

The vehicle came to a stop, and he wasn't sure if he was terrified or grateful. He hid both as he listened to the noises outside. A few people got out, muffled voices speaking Arabic was all he could hear, nothing he could make out clearly through the walls of the van. Heavy boots crunched on dry rocks, approaching the rear doors, the sound of keys in a lock, a grating of metal as the handle turned and the doors swung open.

Bright light stung Killian's eyes. He blinked hard, twisting his head to the side to escape the late afternoon sunshine pouring into the open doors of the van. He didn't get the chance for his eyes to adjust before he felt rough hands grab his arms and pull him from the vehicle. His feet landed heavily on the rocky desert ground, his boots sending up quick puffs of orange dust as he tried to remain standing.

He felt Liam behind him before his eyes had fully opened, heard him take a step until he stood next to him, arm to arm. Killian straightened just a bit, his vision clear enough to take in the three other men, their weapons, and the desolate desert area surrounding them on all sides, a small house just a few yards away the only structure in sight. He felt any semblance of hope he'd managed to scrape together on the ride disappear, evaporate into the desert sun until there was nothing left.

There was no way out. Not this time, not even with Liam at his side, not without knowing where Milah was.

Well, at least he could try his best to find her.

"Where's Milah?" Killian bit out at the men.

No response.

He tried again, a little louder. "Where's Milah?"

One of the men glared at him but didn't say a word.

" _Ayna Milah_?" he tried in Arabic, staring directly into the man's eyes.

He didn't see the blow until it was too late, the butt of another man's rifle slamming hard into his stomach from the other side. Killian coughed out a breath, the air forced from his lungs as he bent forward, his arms pulling tightly behind his back, but he managed not to fall. He tried to catch his breath. "Where's Milah?" he wheezed out, still hunched over.

The large gun struck him again, this time in his side. He grunted, staggered into Liam, but stayed on his feet.

"Where's-" he started again, until Liam's foot stomped on top of his.

"Shut up, Killian," he hissed quietly, directly in his ear. "Not now."

Killian looked up at his brother, the hard line of his mouth, the firmness in his eyes, and he fell silent. Without a word, one of the men grabbed Liam's arm and tugged him into the house, Killian led just a few paces behind his brother flanked by the other two.

They were pushed into a small room ten feet inside the front door of the building, the heavy metal door scraping shut behind them, the sound of a bolt sliding across, the men on the other side. Locked in. Killian looked around, his brother doing the same beside him. A tiny window high in one wall - too small for either of them to fit through, barely a hand's width across - was the only source of light in the room. There was no way to climb up, even if they could fit through. The room was bare, aside from a bucket half-filled with stale water and a pile of rotten food beside it.

Killian leaned against a wall, stretching his arms down his back as far as he could. He sank slowly to the floor, the wall at his back, as he wriggled in the handcuffs. Liam sat across from him. He heard his brother let out a long breath, but neither of them wanted to be the first to talk.

It didn't really matter to Killian, he was too busy concentrating on the metal cuffs around his wrists. He twisted one leg up, through the loop of his arms, then the other, and in a minute his hands were in front of him. Still locked inside the metal restraints, but at least it wasn't pulling on his shoulders anymore. And now he could take a look at the lock, see if there was anything he could use to pick it open.

Not like there was anywhere to go anyway, even if they could find a way out. He'd seen the landscape, at least fifty miles of open desert surrounding them. How far could he get anyway, could he and Liam get together, before someone noticed they were missing and came after them? It was a waste of time to even try, but he couldn't help it. He had to do _something_ to keep from going crazy.

"I'm sorry," he heard his brother's voice from across the room. Soft, quiet, sincere. "This is all my fault."

"It's not, okay?" Killian replied, squinting at the handcuffs and the tiny lock built inside. "Now shut up and help me find a way to get these things off." He stifled another yawn, angry that he was still so damn tired despite everything that was happening to them.

"Can't pick these, Killian. I told you that in the van."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to just give up," he growled back, with more bite than he'd intended. He sighed quietly, the chain of the cuffs clinking as he dropped his hands to his lap. "Look, I just... I'm sorry. I can't sit here and wait, I can't."

"I know," Liam murmured. "I know that."

"And with Milah out there, somewhere… I shouldn't have brought her here, I shouldn't have taken this mission with her, not here, not with these dangers."

"You couldn't have known this would happen," Liam said harshly. "Don't blame yourself, she knew the risks, same as you."

Killian stared hard at his brother. "So you can take all the blame and I can't? Is that how it works?"

"Yeah," Liam smiled, actually _smiled_ back. "That's exactly how it works. I'm your superior, I shouldn't have allowed you to come here at all, not just her. Risks outweighed the information we had, the mission shouldn't have been approved."

He wasn't smiling anymore.

"Liam…"

Liam shook his head. "No point in playing this game, brother." He lifted his head, fixed some semblance of grim determination on his face instead of the heavy guilt Killian had glimpsed just a moment before. "We can point fingers all day. The question is, what do we do now? You're the tactical expert, and you've had more field experience than me. Any ideas besides trying to pick the unpickable handcuffs?"

Killian waited a minute before replying. The leftover drugs in his system were wreaking havoc with his emotions, furious one minute, terrified the next, and he needed everything to just _stop_ for a minute so he could think, categorise, come up with a strategy. He looked around the room again, taking in details he hadn't noticed before. The peeling paint off the cement walls. The stains in the far corners that he didn't want to think about too hard. The dried streaks of burgundy in different areas on the floor that he _definitely_ tried to ignore. Ceiling too high, window too small, no food, no drinkable water, nothing else in the room besides themselves. His gaze wandered back to his hands, cuffed in front of him, and then across the small room to his brother.

He shook his head. "I can't think of anything."

Liam offered him a brief smile. "You will. And if not, they'll come back soon enough, give us a better idea of who's got us and why, maybe catch them making a mistake."

Killian nodded silently.

Across the room, in the slowly darkening light, Liam closed his eyes. He rested his head back against the wall, his tense posture relaxing somewhat.

"Rest, Killian," he said quietly. "I have a feeling we'll need it."

"Aye."

They settled against their respective walls. A thousand thoughts ran through Killian's head, aborted plans, terrible ideas, worse visions of whatever was happening to Milah, wherever she was. He squeezed his eyes shut, forced his breaths to even out, and let the weight of his exhaustion drag him under the darkness.

* * *

Liam closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep. He heard Killian's breathing turn shallow and even, familiar even in this hellhole. Soon he was certain his brother was asleep.

Good, he thought. He needed it. He knew Killian was hiding the bruises from earlier, why the _hell_ his brother had to piss off the local police force was beyond him. They had been desperate, chasing any lead they could find, but it was no excuse to be so reckless, especially in a place they'd never been before.

Liam knew there was a British Army base somewhere outside Kabul. They'd made arrangements with the officers there in case of emergency.

He'd had no idea they'd need backup so soon.

He watched Killian sleep as the sun went down. He couldn't help the notes of guilt that crept into his chest. He'd just told Killian not to play the blame game, but he knew it was fully his fault. He was Killian's superior - Milah's too. He shouldn't have let them come here, should have ignored Killian's pleas to use the opportunity to test a new facet of the program he'd just helped design for the security agency.

It wasn't worth it, he knew, knew now, but hadn't said a word. He should have shut the whole thing down, _especially_ after Killian's run-in with the local cops. He should have recognised the greater exposure, the greater danger. He should have seen this coming.

His baby brother, his only family, the boy he'd mostly raised on his own, had always relied on Liam to keep him safe, and this was no exception. Liam had failed, spectacularly, and now he had no idea if he could protect Killian in all this.

Liam rested his head against the wall, his eyes still trained on his brother's sleeping form on the far side of the room, and let out a sigh. Whatever was coming, he knew it wasn't going to be pleasant, for either of them. He needed his strength, to get some rest, especially without knowing when they'd next get a chance to take a breather.

With another slow release of air, Liam closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Chapter Two for killian-whump's extremely belated birthday present. All credit for this chapter goes to icecubelotr44 for her immense patience, friendship, understanding, support, and everything she does to coax me through. Seriously, I owe you tons more than I can ever repay.

 **WARNING:** There will be extreme violence, torture, blood, and gore, so please do not read if that bothers you. A brief summary of what will happen here is outlined in Chapter 6 of Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies, so check there first if you aren't sure.

* * *

 ** _Chapter Two_**

Liam jolted awake at the sound of the heavy deadbolt sliding through the lock on the door. The room was dark, a pale glow from the window the only light, and he could barely make out Killian's hunched form across the room. Still asleep, but not for long.

The door opened loudly, startling Killian and spilling light from the corridor into the room. Three men strode in, heavy weapons slung across their backs. Backlit against the hallway light, Liam couldn't tell if they were the same men as before, but it didn't really matter. One approached him, indicated he should stand, a barked, " _Yalla_ ," the only word spoken.

Liam struggled against the wall to his feet. His hands were still cuffed tightly behind him; he wasn't as physically flexible as Killian and regretted not working out alongside his brother more often. He knew Killian, as a field operative, needed the training more than he did - sitting at a desk while running scenarios and tweaking programming didn't require much dexterity - but he couldn't help the pang of jealousy as his tightly-pulled arms and shoulders protested his every movement.

Killian was a pace behind him, flanked by two of the men once again. Apparently, they remembered the earlier incident outside the van and were keeping him well guarded. Liam sighed internally and wished his brother had picked up a little more common sense since then. He was certain they'd both need every ounce of self-control they had for whatever it was that was waiting for them outside the room.

He briefly locked eyes with his younger brother, the quick flash of fear in Killian's sending shocks of terror through him as well. Killian was the strategist, the one who could see a dozen different scenarios in his head and plot the best course of action. If he was scared… Liam forced a determined look on his face and nodded quickly, so small a movement he hoped Killian could see it.

" _Yalla_ ," came the order again, a hand shoving him forward and into the hallway. Liam stumbled out of the room and into the light, his brother's footsteps behind him.

They were led deeper into the small house, the peeling paint on the mud-brick walls evidence of neglect, a sure sign that the house was nobody's home. The corridor wasn't that long, though it felt that way to Liam as he tried to memorise every inch of it in case they'd need the information later. At the end of the hall, a doorway opened to the left. The man beside Liam nudged him through, and he barely caught the gasp that worked it's way up his throat from escaping out loud.

The room wasn't full, and the few items in it caught Liam's attention at once. A few hard, wooden chairs scattered about, a long table, a low cot against a wall, a thin, stained mattress atop it. There were more weapons lying on the table, some larger guns propped in the corner opposite the doorway. A long hose was attached to a spigot low on the farthest wall, which immediately struck him as odd.

But it was the dark red staining on the floor that captured most of Liam's initial assessment of the room. And the thick chains attached to the ceiling, others lying in coiled piles under the table. And the various debris around that at first glance seemed just innocuous garbage, but on a closer look they carried the same deep brown as the floor.

He knew. He knew exactly what was going to happen to them.

"No," Liam whispered quietly.

Behind him, he heard Killian's sharp intake of breath, knew his brother had come to the same conclusion he had. But Killian didn't even try to control his reaction. Liam turned quickly, saw Killian start struggling against the two men that held tightly to his bound arms. Killian's boots scraped against the cement floor, trying to push back against the guards, to get out, to run-

Nowhere. There was nowhere to go. They were trapped, alone, in the middle of the desert, for who knew what reason, and there was absolutely no way out.

"No!" Liam cried out, twisting roughly away from the man at his arm. He felt the grip tighten around his bicep, but he pulled back anyway, ignoring the bruising marks the guard's fingertips were most likely leaving on his skin. He could hear the noises from his brother's scuffle behind him, but he was too focused on getting away, staying out of the dreaded room, to pay close attention.

But the unmistakable sound of a fist striking flesh made him turn so fast his neck cracked.

Killian was doubled over, the guards holding tightly to his arms as they wrestled him across the floor. Liam tried to yank himself away from the man grasping him, to get to his brother, to do _something_ , but he couldn't. He could only watch as Killian's arms were raised high above his head, the short chain between the cuffs at his wrists looped onto an iron hook hanging from the ceiling, holding him in place. Killian struggled, fought to free his arms from the hook, but he was firmly trapped.

Trapped.

Liam's mouth went dry as the other men left his brother and approached him. They were trapped somewhere in Afghanistan in a bloodstained room and nowhere to run. He almost didn't feel their hands grabbing his arms, pulling him to the chair. He almost didn't notice when they unlocked the handcuffs, their grip tightening as they secured each of his wrists to the arms of the chair, his legs strapped down as well.

Trapped.

His eyes met Killian's, held his brother's gaze for a long minute as the thick leather straps were tightened on his limbs. Killian's arms were stretched over his head, his feet barely reaching on the floor. Killian twisted slightly in the chains, the hook holding more of his weight than he seemed to want to allow.

Liam fought to hold back the absolute terror from his eyes, the twisting fear that had him trembling where he sat. Killian seemed to be fighting a similar battle, but Liam knew, he recognised the emotion that hid in his brother's face as the same as his own.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, slow, deliberate, the clicking of shoes on the cement the only sound in the room. Liam glanced behind his brother toward the doorway and waited.

He wasn't prepared for the identity of the man who walked in, couldn't hold back the gasp this time, or the fiery _anger_ that began burning in his gut.

"Gold," he spat, ignoring the way Killian twisted in his chains to see. "Of course."

"Agent Jones," Gold smiled, leaning slightly on the cane he held in his right hand. "Good of you to join me here."

"What do you want?" Killian asked, and Liam could hear the anger in his voice as well. Good. They needed anger. Anything to keep them going, to distract them from the fear he knew they both felt so sharply.

"Ah, Agent Jones the younger, nice to see you, too."

"Go to hell," Killian snarled.

Gold only smiled. "Careful what you say, Agent. I might just bring hell here."

For a moment, the icy tendrils of fear broke through the roiling rage inside Liam, clawing up through his chest and lodging somewhere in his throat. But only for a moment.

"Why are we here?" Liam bit out.

The grin on Gold's face only widened. "You'll find out soon enough." The ex-MI6 agent walked across the room slowly, his wooden cane tapping at the floor with each step closer to Liam's chair.

"Leave him alone," Killian called out angrily. "Don't you dare touch him, Gold."

Liam caught a glimpse of the bright spark in Gold's eyes before he turned to where Killian stood secured in the chains, and he knew - _oh, God…_

"Don't worry, _partner_ ," Liam heard Gold sneer to his brother as he swallowed hard. "I won't touch your brother. He'll be perfectly fine."

 _No…_

"Where's Milah?" Killian shot back, the hard edge of his voice wavering just slightly. "What did you do with her?"

"I could ask the same of you," Gold said, standing between Liam and Killian. "What did _you_ do with her, Killian, when you took her from me?"

Absolute _fury_ crossed Killian's face at that. "I didn't take her, she _left_ you!" he spat out.

Liam could hear the smile in Gold's voice - hard and cold - as he replied. "Wrong answer."

Before either brother could move, Gold swung his cane into Killian's midsection. Liam heard his own voice crying out, his eyes glued on Killian as the younger brother grunted loudly, a flash of pain across his face. Killian had no way to protect himself from the blows, his arms raised above his head as Gold hit him again, along his side. Killian gasped, but didn't have a chance to recover before the wooden stick slammed hard into his stomach.

"Stop it!" Liam cried, twisting his arms as hard as he could against the straps that held him tied down. "Leave him alone!"

To Liam's surprise, Gold dropped the cane to the floor and turned to face him. Behind him, Killian gasped for air, his eyes squeezed shut against pain and exertion.

"I'll leave him alone, Agent Jones," Gold drawled, stepping closer to the chair in which Liam sat. The ex-agent absently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the only outward sign of the recent strikes he rained down on Killian. "But I'm going to need something from you first."

Liam felt chills travel up his spine at those words. He knew this wouldn't be as simple as giving Gold what he asked. He _knew_. But he asked anyway. "What do you want?"

Gold smiled broadly. "It's simple, really. All I need are the access codes to your new troubleshooting program, and you're free to go. With a few addendums, of course. It's all up to you, Agent. We can do this the easy way, or the bloody way."

Liam rocked back as if struck, though not a single blow landed on him.

He understood exactly what Gold wanted, and why. The new program, finally completed after years of work, was the greatest project MI6 had ever compiled. Set to cull key words from phone records, emails, and other intercepted communication, it was programmed to predict patterns, find areas that were experiencing disturbances, and extrapolate the likelihood that an operative needed to get involved to restore the peace. If Gold gained access to that… he'd have the entire network of MI6 agents and their rough locations at his fingertips.

"No," Liam breathed out. "I… I can't." He glanced quickly to his brother, who nodded silently. "I can't tell you anything."

 _I'm sorry, Killian_ , he thought, his breath hitching slightly in his chest. _I'm so sorry._

Gold sighed dramatically and turned away. "I was afraid you'd say that, Agent Jones." He nodded once, and stepped back.

Two of the other men who'd been standing silently nearby walked forward, approached Killian where he stood immobilised. The taller one pulled back his fist, rocked it straight into Killian's gut. Liam couldn't breathe, his eyes locked on his brother's as Killian huffed out a breath, his face twisting in pain. The shorter man's fist made contact with Killian's back, just above his left hip. Liam could only watch, horrified, pangs of fear jolting through his chest as Killian arched back, his mouth open in a silent cry.

Liam yanked at the straps on his wrists, his legs shaking uncontrollably against the chair legs to try to get free, to save Killian, to do _something_. He couldn't budge, couldn't _move_ , as the men landed blow after blow on his brother's body, Killian's grunts and gasps the only sounds he could hear anymore.

He couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice, screaming for them to stop.

* * *

Killian's entire body twisted with the force of the punches, his already-bruised ribs protesting the hard strikes on his muscles. He tried to stay quiet, but he couldn't hold back the low groans that tore from his lips with each blow. He couldn't breathe; they kept hitting him so fast, so hard, he couldn't _breathe_ , his chest heaving for air that wouldn't come, wouldn't fill his lungs.

But he heard Liam, heard his brother shouting for the men to leave him alone. He tried to open his eyes, to let Liam know it was all right, he could take the beating. God knew he'd been through enough of them already in his time with MI6, not to mention the scrapes and fistfights he'd been in as a boy. Each time they hit him, his eyes squeezed closed just a little tighter as he held back as much as he could, tried to be strong, brave, whatever Liam needed him to be, to keep Gold from getting those codes.

A fist hit him in the centre of his chest, and for a moment Killian saw bright spots at the edges of his vision. His lungs refused to open, his mouth gaping as he fought for air between the strikes. In a panic, he pulled open his eyes, his gaze darting around the room until he found Liam, found his brother. Liam was shaking in the chair, pulling madly on his restraints, his eyes focused on Killian.

For a moment, their gazes locked, the depths of Liam's pain obvious in pale blue eyes he knew so well. Killian tried to fix his brother with a hard stare, begging him not to give in, not because of him, but all he could see was Liam's eyes filling with tears.

It was all he needed to get his chest to start working. He pulled in a ragged breath, just in time for a punch to his side to leave him gasping once more. Breathe, grunt, repeat. He could almost anticipate the rhythm of their attack, figure out his own, and as long as he ignored the fierce agony of each fist hitting his body, the sharp burn of the cuffs pulling on his wrists, he could stay breathing, keep from gasping for air.

Before he realised, they'd stopped, the two men stepping backward away from him at some command he hadn't even heard. He sagged as much as the chains would allow. He could barely feel his hands anymore past the metal handcuffs.

Killian took a shaky breath, his entire torso screaming in protest with every movement he made. He felt his heartbeat begin to slow down, the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears quieter with each passing moment. He forced his eyes open, mildly alarmed at how much effort it took to focus on finding his brother a few feet away.

Liam.

Their gazes locked, Liam's eyes watery and full of concern. Killian could almost hear the question. He nodded silently, the only movement that didn't hurt. Liam nodded back.

Liam's gaze flicked to Gold, who must have started talking. It didn't matter what he said, Killian knew. His brother wouldn't tell. He _couldn't_ tell. Too many lives were at stake for Liam to choose him over them. He concentrated on catching his breath, which took more effort than he liked, and ignored the murmured mumblings of conversation around him.

But something in the way Liam looked at him forced Killian to pay attention. His brother's eyes were wide with fear.

And the two men were moving closer again.

 _Not again_ , Killian groaned silently, bracing himself for the blows he knew would be coming. Liam was shaking his head to Gold, the sound of his voice muted somehow, lost under the throbbing pain radiating from his chest and back. _Can't think about that now_.

Killian managed a small smile, just for his brother. _It's okay, Liam_ , he wanted to say. He waited until Liam saw him, waited until his brother's expression relaxed just a little bit. _It's okay._

The first punch hit him on the right side, the second on his left, and the agony that had finally faded to a manageable level came roaring back. He gasped, the air he'd fought so hard to capture forced out of his lungs painfully. A third strike. Fourth.

He lost track after the sixth. The room dimmed around him, but he didn't care. He just wanted it to end, to be far away from the pain, from Gold, from Kabul. Somewhere, anywhere else, with Liam and…

 _Milah_ …

A pain of a different kind nestled inside his chest, his heart tight with sudden worry. _Milah_ , he mouthed silently between blows.

Killian couldn't fight the darkness slipping in around him, and he didn't want to. He surrendered to the pull and let himself drift away.

* * *

Liam watched in horror as Killian slumped where he stood, the two men continuing to beat him even after he was no longer conscious. His throat hurt from yelling, his wrists and ankles rubbed raw from trying to escape the restraints holding him firmly to the chair, but he didn't stop either, not when his brother was being tortured right in front of him. He wasn't aware of much of what else was going on in the room, but it didn't matter.

Only Killian mattered.

They stopped hitting him after a time. He didn't know how long, all he knew was that it was over.

 _For now_.

At some signal, the two men reached up and unhooked Killian's arms from the chains holding him suspended from the ceiling. He sagged bonelessly between them and, despite Liam's hoarse cries, dragged him from the room without a word.

"Just tell me what I want to know," Gold said smugly, sauntering between Liam and the door where Killian had just been taken, "and all this can stop. It's all up to you, Agent."

Liam said nothing and looked away from Killian's ex-partner.

A few silent, terrible moments went by, and the men returned. Joined by the third, they approached Liam's chair, untied him, and grasped his limbs tightly. He tried kicking at them, twisting away from their grasp, but they were too strong. They took him down the same hallway as they had Killian, back to the small room with the tiny window and the bloodstains on the floor. Liam stumbled as they shoved him through the door and slammed it behind him, the sound of the heavy, iron bolt sliding through the lock the last noise he heard outside the room.

Liam groped blindly in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the near blackness of the room. Killian had to be here somewhere, he _had_ to-

There.

The toe of his shoe nudged something soft. Liam crouched down, carefully feeling around with his hands.

"Killian?" he whispered hoarsely, his fingers gently touching his brother's side. The quiet name burned through his sore throat, but he didn't care.

There was no reply.

Liam sank down to sit on the floor, the wall at his back, Killian's motionless form beside him. He placed his hand on his brother's side, feeling Killian's hitching breaths. In, out, again.

"I'm sorry, Killian," he murmured. His voice was barely above a whisper, he couldn't manage louder. "I would switch places with you in a heartbeat if I could. I'm so, so sorry."

Killian didn't respond, the only sound in the room his quiet, slightly laboured breathing.

With another apology on his lips, Liam rested his head back against the wall, his hand counting his brother's breaths until the uneven rhythm lulled him to sleep.


End file.
